"Tell Me About Despair, Yours, And I Will Tell You Mine"
Finding pinpricks of joy amidst the darkness
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. - Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
This week my mind is on fire. Originally, I planned to publish a piece on the importance of play for adults, but I can’t bring myself to finish editing. Between last week’s presidential debate, this week’s Supreme Court decision, and the messages I received from dozens of people who shared the desperation of selling plasma to pay bills after I wrote a poem on the subject, I feel myself toeing the edge of despair.
This is not an opinion piece about what political parties need to do next. There’s enough noise as it is. I will do the only thing I currently have control over in November. I will vote. Whoever the Democratic Party selects—Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, the Gecko from Geico—I will vote for their candidate because I cannot fathom another four years with Donald Trump as president. Regardless of my disagreement with certain policies of the current administration, my ideals are significantly more aligned with the Democratic Party than the alternative.
I am not naive. I understand there is a real possibility Donald Trump will take office despite criminal prosecution, an attempted insurrection, and advocating to repeal human rights for millions. I’m furious. I’m terrified. I’m heartbroken. Darkness feels like it’s spreading from all angles. Like most people in this country, I’m struggling to keep up with an increased cost of living despite having full-time employment. I’m watching as our mental health crisis strains the medical system, women are losing bodily autonomy, immigrant and LGBTQIA communities are under attack, teachers and libraries are banned from teaching our nation’s full history. I could go on for pages. Though it’s tempting at times to completely disassociate from reality, I’m not the kind of person who can pretend it isn’t happening.
Balance is not my strong suit, and as a highly sensitive person, I struggle not to feel everything intensely. An example? Remember the trillions of cicadas that emerged a few months ago? I wept when they all started dying. Their tiny, silent bodies were heartbreaking. So how can those of us who are so easily overwhelmed survive?
For me, it means intentionally putting down my phone. I read the news and determine where I can lean in to engage and advocate. Then I immerse myself in the sparks of joy within my daily life—playing hide and seek with my four-year-old son, adding whipped cream to chocolate ice cream, curling up into my partner’s arms while we drink coffee in bed, pairing sliced heirloom tomatoes with fresh baguette, watching my friend marry the love of her life, eating a peach-basil popsicle and licking the juices dribbling down my arms, compiling my first poetry manuscript to be published in Spring of 2025, drinking rose with friends on a humid patio, writing in community.
Even disconnected, I can’t ever fully quiet the noise, but I find leaning into these moments pulls me back from despair. They are the pinpricks of light in a sea of darkness—my reminders of everything good, of everything to keep fighting for.
How are you combatting despair? What pinpricks of joy are you clinging to? I’d love to hear what’s bringing light to your life this season.
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How are you combatting despair? What pinpricks of joy are you clinging to? I’d love to hear what’s bringing light to your life this season.
All of this. I find myself becoming increasingly apathetic and disheartened by the trajectory of this country and can’t wrap my head around these decisions. While it weakens my positive outlook, it does strengthen my emotional resolve and hunger for change. Believe harder. Write more. Combat hate and small mindedness in the only way we can: by loving more.